Bubble of Eternity
by Dragonseatingme
Summary: One chocolate milk-shake, an exchanged smile, three heart-breaks and one love story. She meets him when she is sixteen and from then her life is filled with moments revolving around a boy with golden eyes, golden hair, a golden smile and a golden heart. A story told in parts. KiseOC One-shot.


_**Bubble of Eternity  
**_

**Summary: **One chocolate milk-shake, an exchanged smile, three heart-breaks and one love story. She meets him when she is sixteen and from then her life is filled with moments revolving around a boy with golden eyes, golden hair, a golden smile and a golden heart. KiseOC One-shot.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kuroko No Basuke nor the lyrics to 'Heartbeat' by The Fray, 'Breakeven' and 'For the First Time' by The Script.

* * *

**Part One: **The Mind

* * *

_("Oh you gotta fire and it's burnin' in the rain._

_Thought that it went out, but it's burnin' just the same._

_And you don't look back, not for anything._

_'Cause love someone, love them all the same.")_

* * *

The first time she meets him, she's sixteen, and is waiting on tables in a popular restaurant. It was a busy day, and business was booming. There was some tournament going on nearby, and the entire crowd descended into the few eateries they could find after the matches. She's running around trying to keep track of orders and food flying about.

She isn't upset, she's glad actually. More business meant more tips, and better pay- her family needed all the support that they could get to pay the bills.

Plus, she met him didn't she?

He was rich; she could see that the minute he walked in with his friends. Her co-worker nudges her towards them, and she stumbles over, because my oh my _were _they good-looking.

He's with his teammates, and they're celebrating together. He's clinging to one of them, acting like a child.

She finds it adorable.

He's smiling; his golden eyes lit up like the sun, making him shine brighter than anyone in the room.

She swears, the minute he glanced up at her and looks her in the eye, her heart skipped a beat.

_May I take your order?_

_We'll have this and this and this please~!_

_Shut up, or I'll hit you._

She winces as one of his teammates whacks him on the head. She wonders how he still smiles so brightly even after that.

She doesn't recognize him at once; it would take more meetings to finally figure out who he was.

But for now she is content with serving the cute boy with golden eyes, who had a smile which could light up the world.

* * *

The next time she sees him, he's alone. There isn't much of a crowd, so she approaches him a little slower this time.

He looks so _sad, _the joy with which he held himself the last time she saw him was gone; he wasn't lighting up the place anymore.

His golden eyes are dulled, and his body lifeless.

She wonders if something happened. When she nears the table, he looks up at her, with a weary smile on his face.

_May I take your order?_

_I lost._

_Excuse me?_

_I tried so hard but I lost._

He looks so incredibly tired, like he had just fought a war, and returned as a disgraced soldier.

She feels sorry for him, despite having no reason to do so. He wasn't the one taking extra lessons in school, working shifts everyday just to pay bills and help her mother. He was probably born with a silver spoon in his mouth, considering the fancy brand of his clothes.

But right now he looks like a kicked puppy, and she couldn't help but have her heartstrings tugged. She figures he must have lost a basketball game or something; she's heard a thing or two about him from her co-workers.

She pauses and wonders what to do.

Out of personal experience, she knew that he needed a milk-shake and a smile and he would be fine.

And she does just that.

He looks up at her in surprise as she places a chocolate milk-shake in front of him.

_Drink and you'll be fine._

She turns and goes back to wait on other tables, with her pony-tail swishing in the air.

He leaves her a big tip, and a smiley doodled on the bill.

* * *

She sees him several times after that, but she never had the opportunity to serve him.

She was promoted to the position of the cashier; her extra lessons are paying off.

He would come in often, just to parcel some food, or have a quick chocolate milk-shake. Sometimes he came in with his teammates, and she would watch from behind the counter as he animatedly threw his hands on his senpai, or how he simply lit up the room with his smiles and laughter.

He would always acknowledge her presence in some way.

Maybe through a smiley on the bill, or simply a grin and wave in her direction- it always brought a warm smile to her face and tingly feelings in her stomach.

Her co-workers often joked that he must be in love with someone, making it obvious they were referring to her.

She rolls her eyes at their conversations of how he looked at her like how boys look at their princesses in dramas.

But she never sees him upset again.

(And she's secretly happy of that)

* * *

The third time she (properly) sees him, it's almost closing time and she's dead tired. Her mum's fallen ill and she had to work extra shifts through the night.

There's another person at the counter, and so she waits on tables.

He's the last customer, and he waits quietly for her to come up and take his order.

She walks up wearily and asks,

_May I take your order?_

_I'll have a chocolate milk-shake please~!_

She tries her best to smile a little, before nodding, and moving towards the counter

He reaches and grabs her hand, as she turns to leave.

A bright beam is sent her way.

_Make that two milk-shakes please~_

She says a soft okay, too tired to process the slight twitch of mischief in his eyes.

(or was it concern?)

He watches her as she moves around behind the counter, making the milk-shakes.

She doesn't notice how his golden eyes soften as he watches her blend the chocolate with the milk humming a tune under her breath.

She walks over, and sets the glasses on the table. She gives him a small smile, and turns to finish some last minute cleaning of the adjacent tables.

He calls her over, after he finishes one milk-shake; the other one untouched.

He smiles at her, this time not the bright childish one, but a slightly mature, slightly serious one, and to her it's even more beautiful than the smile she sees often adorn his face.

_I never thanked you for last time._

She's confused.

He must have seen her expression, because he smiles again and the entire room lights up once more.

_Thank you. _

He touches her hand briefly, his golden eyes piercing her own; like molten gold, and the warmth of the sun.

His runs his hand through his equally yellow hair, in a sort of nervous way, which she finds very endearing. His mouth opens to say more, and his eyes dart across her face searching for something.

He doesn't find it.

He gets up, sends one of those brighter-than-the-sun grins, which puts her in a haze.

She snaps out of her stupor, when he almost leaves the room, and she calls,

_You haven't finished your milk-shake!_

He blinks his eyes hesitantly,

_It's for you~_

And he's out of the door, and she'd left clutching a foaming chocolate-milkshake, with a question lingering in her mind.

The bill has a big smiley, and an address and time on it.

_Please come and watch me play~ _

Her heart warms up.

* * *

The fourth and fifth time she sees him, she spends some time talking to him.

He talks about his school, basketball, modelling (this is when she finds out why the female population always increases in the restaurant whenever he's around).

He's easy-going, and childish, which perfectly balances her serious and stiff attitude. He helps her relax, and without fail makes her laugh until there are tears rolling down her face, and her sides ache.

He tells her stories of how his senpai treat him, and all the chaos his presence causes whenever he walks into a public place. He tells her he likes this restaurant, and the significant look he gives her probably means more than she understands.

She slowly opens up to the boy with golden eyes, golden hair, a golden smile and a golden heart.

* * *

By the time she sees him the sixth time, she already has a growing crush on him.

She knows it's stupid and he probably would be far too dense to notice it, but she can't help but have her pulse race whenever she sees him. Her palms sweat and her brain goes hay-wire; heart thumping and fluttering. Every glance, every smile makes her want to collapse into a gooey puddle and it's only her pride that keeps her from doing so.

She knows that she's known him for a very brief period, yet her heart hammers in her chest so loud, that she's scared he'll hear it.

He enters the restaurant, and walks to his usual table. The place is empty- it's an odd time in the afternoon but he always visits her then, right after basketball, and spends at least an hour with her talking.

She walks toward him holding the usual chocolate milk-shake, and he waves his hands wildly in greeting.

She holds out her writing pad in pretence of taking another order, while he talks at lightning fast speed about '_Kurokocchi' _and how he keeps rejecting him.

(If she didn't know better, she would think he was in love with that guy)

After a few minutes of aimless talking, her boss calls her over to get back to work, and she leaves with a sorry smile, and a wave promising to be back.

He sits there staring into space, waiting patiently for her to get back. Sometimes he would watch her from the corner of his eyes, as she laughs and takes down the orders of other customers. He smiles fondly, as her eyebrows scrunch in concentration as she counts the change to give back.

He knows that he probably shouldn't have this unhealthy obsession with her; with his secret visits when he would simply look at her from outside the window, or walking in every day just to see her smile.

But he likes her, the attention she gives him, and the twinkle in her eyes whenever he acts particularly childish. She doesn't roll her eyes at his antics, like most his other friends do, which is the reason he likes her most.

Plus, he's sixteen and she's pretty, and he doesn't mind getting a girlfriend anyway.

(He secretly hopes that that will get the fangirls to leave him alone)

* * *

The seventh time she sees him, he asks her on a date.

She's sitting beside him, and he's telling her about a basketball match he had just watched.

And she throws her head back laughing like a little kid, and he just _knew, _knew that _that _was the moment. He watches her grey eyes sparkling with sheer vivacity, her desperate attempts at stifling her laughter, the slight crookedness of her front teeth as she bites her lips, and the fact that she actually _enjoys _his humour.

He stops and wonders for a second, if he was going to make the right decision.

He goes for it anyway.

He grabs her hand, and asks her nice and brightly (because there was _no _way he was going to be vulnerable about this). She stops laughing for a second, her face paused in surprise. Her mouth shuts and her grey eyes soften down, until they look like shining silver.

He waits for a few moments, as she turns his words in her mind processing his words.

Her mind says yes; he's perfect, he's nice, he's _good. _Her body tingles all over; she gets the goosebumps when she looks at the boy with soft molten gold eyes, and the brighter-than-the-sun smile. She'll be happy with him, she knows.

But a part of her heart protests, does she even like him enough, enough to go out with him, the boy with golden-eyes that wants too much from her?

But she says yes anyway, because she's sixteen and he's hot; and she doesn't mind getting a boyfriend.

* * *

The eight time she sees him, they're on their first date to an amusement park.

The minute they enter, one of his fangirls spots them, and they spend about two hours running until they give up and call it a day

The next date, they stop at the clothing store where he buys a large summer hat and a pair of giant sunglasses.

(She doesn't have the heart to tell him it's a girl's hat)

They get kicked out of the café because the place is overridden with his fangirls (and the owner by some twist in fate is subscriber of a rival magazine)

The third date, they don't go out, but watch a corny chick-flick at his house.

(She falls asleep halfway)

Their fourth date is memorable because they kiss for the first time.

By the fifth date, his entire team comes to know, and she is faced with four basketball players ready to dish _every _embarrassing story they know of his.

(Her sides hurt after laughing too much, and he sulks like a petulant child, until she kisses him alright again)

The sixth date is spent watching him train with the team, and him watching her work.

The seventh date she meets Kuroko.

The eight- Aomine.

By the ninth, she stops counting.

* * *

**Part Two: **The Mind and Heart

* * *

_("What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?_

_And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay?_

_I'm falling to pieces, yeah,_

_I'm falling to pieces")_

* * *

They date steadily though the first year of high-school and the summer following it.

She watches his games, cheering for him in the crowd. He visits the restaurant every day without fail- sometimes even helping her around.

For a few weeks her co-workers tease her mercilessly, until they reach a point where they coo and sigh every time he smiled at her. She finds it sort of annoying, but he loves the attention.

They soon realise that barring a few activities, their tastes don't match much.

He's into socialising, parties and malls.

She's into silence, silence and silence.

Yeah, they find it hard to do stuff.

But they manage, because- well because they just want to do so.

They don't talk about money, the future, family or anything along those lines. There's a lot they don't discuss actually. Nothing of substance is used as topic of conversation; nothing potentially problem-creating is spoken about.

He talks about basketball and she speaks of school; and time just passes on.

* * *

They spend most of their summer in his house, lazing around, holding hands, kissing or playing casual games of basketball. He helps her shoot, and she teaches him how to cook. He gets flour on his face, and she rubs it off. She falls down while playing and he applies the band-aid with a smile and kiss on the cheek. They fall asleep in each other's arms after movies, or he falls asleep in her arms or vice-versa. He plays the guitar and sings her love songs, and they laugh until their stomachs hurt, sing Disney songs out of pitch while trying to dance together, and spend nights on the roof counting stars. He wipes her tears and she wipes his sweat and everything should _perfect, happy, beautiful _except it's not and they don't know why. She should be having the time of her life and she does- but _why why why_ does her heart not sway like her body does when they dance to slow music, why doesn't it flutter like it did when she first started dating him? _Why why why? _He asks himself the same thing.

(_But why not?_)

* * *

She realises quite soon, that she doesn't love him. He figures it out a few weeks after her- and spends another in denial. They just add that as another thing they'll never bring up.

(But maybe they should have)

* * *

It's a spur-of-the-moment relationship- like when a hero meets a heroine and they get start dating because they like the _thought _of being together.

She likes it- the warm hands and blinding smiles and the soft whispers of nothingness.

Because it's so _comforting _being with him- there aren't sparks and urges to _kiss kiss kiss _all the time. They don't need 'I love you' or gifts or deep conversations. Everything about their relationship is light and shallow- no dark secrets, no guilty pleasures- just enjoyment and contentment. They stay together because that's just the right thing to do; neither one wants to break the other's heart nor are they willing to _give _each other their hearts. It's warm and happy- it's like summer love stretched and stretched just so that they can _live _in the moment.

It just isn't serious.

But they're sixteen, young and bold, and when they kiss, it's like the world is nothing but speck nothingness in their little eternity.

So they stay together for the hell of it.

* * *

Everything finally falls apart one summer evening, a few weeks before their school is scheduled to open.

She tells him about the transfer her mother got to Tokyo, and he goes silent for a minute. They're on his roof, and its sunset. Just minutes ago they were searching for animals in the sky (_"That's a rabbit!" "No silly, it's a bunny~" "What's the difference?" "Uhhh…"_) He's facing the sky and she's on her stomach leaning over him. Her eyes trace his perfect features- his nose, his lips she's kissed so many times, his _golden golden _eyes.

_Stay._

_I can't._

_But- but._

_I'm so sorry._

He stares at the heavens hoping they would have an answer because _god dammit, _this was supposed to be_ perfect. _She watches the sun's dying rays falling on him, his molten eyes that don't seem to melt for her anymore, his golden hair, golden smile, golden heart and wonders if she'll ever meet anyone like him.

Her mind mutters the question like a mantra as if she was holding a flower, plucking each petal, saying _'Will I?' 'Will I not?' 'Will I?'_

He locks eyes with her and says wistfully hoping it might change; she might change, he might change- _everything might change._

_So this is yeah?_

_Yeah._

This time she smiles melancholically at him.

_Will you ever regret it?_

_No-no._

And she never will because it was beautiful, and maybe not what she wanted it to turn out to be, but it screamed summer and laughter, milk-shakes, and _life. _He was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to her in high-school; and she wonders whether she should let him go. But she knew and he knew that nothing would change.

_I wanted to love you._

_I almost did._

Her eyes fill with tears, and she doesn't want to let go. But they're _falling, falling, falling, _and this time a chocolate milk-shake will not fix it. She wants to love the boy with golden eyes, golden hair, a golden smile and a golden heart, but she can't.

Because they're no longer sixteen, young and bold- and suddenly they found out that the world is far too big and far too serious for them to conquer alone.

Their little bubble of eternity is _gone- _gone with time.

He kisses her for the last time, and her tears mingle with his, and suddenly what stood for summer and laughter and happiness- stood for falling,sadness and pain. She realises that when they said first loves (or almost loves) hurt, they weren't lying.

He smiles nostalgically at her.

_One last milk-shake?_

_Okay._

(When he walks her home for the last time, her heart gives an infinitesimal flutter, but she ignores it because it's far too _late, _and they're _gone gone _and he's not coming _back_)

* * *

She graduates out of a public school in Tokyo with flying colours. She gets into a prestigious university and four years later she's a qualified writer. It's been six years since she last spoke to the boy with golden eyes, but it doesn't seem like it.

She's dated three boys (_no men_) after him, but nothing too serious, nothing too life-changing. She sees him sometimes on T.V. playing a random match, in a random town, against a random team- and she doesn't bring herself to care. She reads gossip articles about his various exploits with models, actresses and wonders whether he still drinks chocolate milk-shakes- whether his golden smile is still untainted by the lure of copper.

(_She wonders whether he still thinks of her, like she thinks of him_)

He plays professional basketball through her years of college, and takes over a magazine company when she starts working.

She starts off as a junior editor of a small health magazine and struggles through a year of bad pay and lousy work, until she gets a break at a fancy design and sports magazine (weird combination- but it pays). She spends her mornings and afternoons and soon evenings at office- editing, writing and making ends meet.

She learns from her co-workers that the owner of the magazine for which she works for is none other than Kise Ryouta himself (_fate fate fate?_). She also learns that he's moved on with his life (_is that even surprising?_) and he's engaged to his long-time partner and had his wedding planned for autumn.

(_But why was __**she **__feeling so sad about it?_)

Maybe the news should have shocked her, made her cry, because _she_ could have been the one there holding his hand and saying _I do- _but it doesn't because she can't love something she never had, and _will never_ have either.

But she buys herself a tub of ice-cream and sits up all night watching a love story- because feeling sad is what a normal person would feel right?

* * *

One fine day, she walks into the office to see half her female co-workers huddled around a desk, and she curiously looks over their heads to see them looking dreamily at a familiar shade of golden.

She _flees. _

_(Questions, questions, why is she scared?)_

She calls in sick the next day as well.

But then her boss calls up, demanding for her presence, so she soothes her nerves, wears her fanciest suit and struts over to the office in what she hopes is a look of indifference.

She finds that he isn't there.

She isn't sure whether she feels disappointment or relief.

_(or perhaps both)_

* * *

It's pretty late into the afternoon, and she's having the worst day ever. She's spilt coffee on her clothes (_twice_), lost her keys, vomited her lunch (_cause she's allergic to anything not tasty_), messed up her hair, and is just very very tired.

But fate loves biting her in the ass, and he walks in precisely when her stomach decides to sing the song of the whales.

He sees her and she sees him, and to her it's the most embarrassing moment she's ever had, and to him- to him he's not too sure.

He smiles at her, and opens his mouth to say something, before his arms a tugged by a short brunette wearing an over-sized T-shirt that says, _'Sand Cats are adorable, and adorableness can't become endangered can it?' _The girl looks confident, and can pull off that hipster- savviness with giant glasses, and spirit and sheer vivacity in a way she never can.

But what really made her stomach plummet to the ground is the expression with which he looks at the girl next to him. How his eyes soften, melt and how his face lights up- he never _ever _looked at _her _like that-with so much love, passion, tenderness.

_(No no no this can't be happening.)_

She stares open-mouthed as the brunette grabs his hand and a bright a chuckle escapes his mouth. She notices how every glance they exchange is riddled with inside jokes and secrets, promises, hopes and _love love love. _The warmth, the brightness- her golden boy is another's now.

That's her first meeting with his fiancé.

* * *

She doesn't see or meet him again for a long time. Maybe she got a few glances of him in the office (apparently his fiancé wanted a department dedicated to entrepreneurs and projects for the greater good of the world or something) and the office is buzzing with energy and excitement because of it.

After that singular moment of clarity, she buries herself in work even more- dangling at the edge not knowing what to do.

She can't be jealous of his fiancé, because she's _nice, smart, _and not some slutty model she had hoped she would be. She organizes charity-funders and projects and spends her time worrying about starving children and malnutrition. She calls businessmen, media- to drive the people's attention towards issues that are plaguing the world- she's an entrepreneur and _doing _so much, _helping _so many people.

How can you hate someone, who probably doesn't even care?

And so she settles to doing the one thing she's good at- pretending that nothing's happening, nothing's wrong, everything's normal.

He _loves _the brunette, he's going to _marry _her; what business does she have in interfering or acting as if she had any say in _anything_?

Plus, she had her chance didn't she?

* * *

Over the next few months, she sees him, sometimes sending him a smile, or handing him a file and going through the standard small talk.

_How are you~?_

_I'm fine, thank you._

There's nothing special about the way he treats her- no brighter smile, no lingering looks- she's the same as any other person talking to him. He doesn't seem to care that they dated, or had anything special- because as hard as it is for her to admit it, they really didn't have anything.

His eyes don't have a glimmer of nostalgia or pain like, how she is sure, her eyes have. It just cements the fact that he never thought of her again, and hits her that maybe just maybe she should not think of him either.

She wants to let go so badly, and her mind agrees but her heart flutters, thumps and refuses- _hold on hold on, hold on longer longer longer. _

_Hold on darling._

* * *

**Part 3**: The Heart

* * *

_("We're smiling but we're close to tears,_

_Even after all these years,_

_We just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time")_

* * *

They break up.

It's splattered all over the newspapers, magazines and gossip around the office. Rumours fly all around- ranging from the probable to the preposterous. Some say they expected it, while others grab their tissues and sob, because they were so _adorable _together.

No one actually knows why, and no one's crazy enough to ask.

The fiancé (or ex) flies off to Brazil or some part of South America to shoot some documentary about the Amazon and he locks himself up in his office, and refuses all calls. She gets used to watching _person_ after _person_ after _person_ walking up to his room and trying to get him to talk. She watches as his old teammates try to cheer him up through the door, by disparaging the ex. and blatantly insulting her- only to have him ignore them all.

And although she's shouldn't and has no business to, she walks up to a nearby café, buys a chocolate milk-shake and places it softly in front of his door.

When he opens it, he regards the cup with contempt and his lips curl up into a derisive smile, as he kicks it aside and walks out.

That breaks her heart more than anything in the world,

The golden boy doesn't shine anymore, he barely laughs or even _smiles. _He walks into work looking immaculate as ever, but he's weary and gloomy and heart-broken. He no longer cheers anyone up, and spends most of his time criticising everyone's work. The whole office is dulled and everyone can't bring themselves to act happy anymore.

All because their boss has changed.

She wants to be the one to bring him back to life, make him happy again. She wants to guide that smile back onto his face, make joy mingle with his laughter. She wants to be the one who he can lean on, trust and maybe even _love. _She wants to be _his, _and it's selfish _so_ _so_ selfish, but she finds it hard to care, because this could be _her _moment- the moment to get her golden boy back.

But she can't get through to him, or even pluck up the courage to _talk _to him.

* * *

A few weeks later, Kuroko comes into the office, and whacks him straight across the head with a book, before dragging him out by his ear.

They don't see him for two weeks, until that one day when he enters work with the brightest smile they had seen in ages. He greets them, smiles, laughs- and everything goes back to the way it was pre-breakup.

There are still moments where his eyes grow dark and longing, and he shuts everyone out for a few hours before emerging again. His smiles are little less frequent and a little less brighter, but it's progress- _baby steps, take baby steps. _

The office is warmer now that he's back again, and she finds a heavy weight being lifted off her shoulders and she doesn't know why, but she's happy.

After that disastrous chocolate milk-shake incident, she decides to stop- stop trying to make him notice her. If he wants to he'll do it on his own, and not because of her.

But her heart still says, _hold on darling._

* * *

Time and tide wait for none.

Life goes back to being how it was when they were sixteen, and weren't dating. This time, instead of chocolate milk-shakes, she hands him files and paperwork, and he hands her indirectly the money that will sustain her. This time she's the one with shiny eyes, and a blooming heart, and he's the one who doesn't know and doesn't care.

Funny how life works doesn't it?

So it is only apt, that they finally being _noticing _each other again, is when one of them spirals _down down down, _and other picks them up.

The previous time it was him, and now it is her.

It's seven in the evening, and the sun has set and stars have come out. It's cloudy and dark and gloomy and _sad, _everything she feels, wants to let go of and hide away from.

She's in the park, leaning against a tree, clutching a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, tears staining the petals drop-by-drop. Her eyes are red, tired, sick, her skin pale as the flowers she holds. She clutches a letter, torn, scrunched up, wet and creased- full of emotions she is brimming with. She stares up into the sky wondering _why why why _everything was breaking up _now, _and not tomorrow, or the day after that, or when she's ready to face it.

He's walking along the path near the tree, full of lost thoughts and passions, holding a basketball and dribbling it absent-mindedly. He's in his formal work wear, with a loosened tie and tussled hair, his mind and body in different places.

He stops when he hears the faintest of sobs, and quietly turns to see who it is.

He sees her crying, and the ball falls out of his hand with a thud, and he walks towards her.

He doesn't say a word and she doesn't look up, and so he removes the paper she clutches in her hand gently, and smoothens it out and reads.

_We are very sorry to inform you of the sad demise of your mother Mrs-_

He takes a short breath in, and the letter falls out of his hand. Even if he hasn't spoken or thought of her in years, he can't forget the way she loved her mother- the single minded devotion with which she spoke of her, cared for her, did everything for her. Goddammit she _left _him for the sake of her job.

She looks up at him; her eyes widen and grow dark. The clear silver of her eyes turns ash grey.

He starts,

_I'm sorry-_

_Don't be._

_But-_

_Please- please just leave._

_But-_

_Please._

_I can't-_

_I said, __**leave.**_

She glares at him, because she is not ready for this, for him, for his sympathy. She wants to be alone, to mourn, and to get through like she always does- _by herself._

He stops and looks at her- just looks. Because never in all his years of knowing her, has she _ever _showed even the slightest of anger towards him. They never fought, or shouted or had any conflicts whatsoever- half because there was nothing to fight about and half because they avoided it and let things go and go and go, which is why they fell apart.

And now she's glaring at him, asking him to leave- but he doesn't because he's always been a stubborn person and it is finally the right time to use that stubbornness for something other than basketball. And so he stays.

He tilts his head and gazes at her distraught face, marred by tear tracks and sorrow. He shoots her a beam that is terribly inapt for the situation and grabs her arm. She's jerked to the side, and the next thing she knows, she's being pulled by him along the path.

She attempts to get him to let her go, but his grip is too strong.

_Let __**go **__of me._

_I'm sorry but I can't! We're getting a milkshake~_

If it were any other situation, she would have swooned at his puppy dog expression, but now is not that time. She thinks, if demanding didn't work, then what about asking politely?

_Please, please, please, could you let me go?_

_Not a chance._

She takes one looks at his golden eyes filled with determination, and she knows she's fighting a lost cause. His stubbornness and resoluteness is clear as the sky that summer morning when her mother took her out to the zoo for the first time.

She internally admonishes herself for being so masochistic.

He tugs her arm softly to get her attention, and his molten gold eyes are questioning. As much as she wants to push him away, and run run run till she can run no more- underneath layers and layers of grief and sorrow and pain, her heart thumps loudly at the prospect of being next to him again.

And she's tired, and sick, and frustrated with life in general and her mother for leaving her alone; so sue her if a small part of her doesn't mind him taking care of her.

She's at the crossroads, and she can either go with him into unexplored-yet-explored territory or go back to how she usually spends her life- alone and safe.

She breaks the rules by walking in middle treading on both, undecided.

* * *

_Why are you doing this?_

_Well, I owed you a favour didn't I?_

* * *

And just like that something changes. It's not dramatic with flashes of epiphanies and bright lights, but more gentle and subtle, like how spring comes and goes in the wait for summer- bright and beautiful but shadowed by the promises of summer and the heartache of winter. Spring also stands for hope, love and new beginnings.

They speak more often, smile more often, laugh more often- with each other, with other people, alone- because somehow meeting up with old friends has that effect. Meeting old friends brings up those _memories, _memories long forgotten in this ever-changing world, causes you to go back and remember a life long gone, where the smallest things made you happy, and the simplest of actions spoke the loudest words. Remembering them by-yourself, causes feelings of bitterness and loss, whereas reminiscing with old friends causes nostalgia and that childish glee and carelessness to come back to life.

They experience that slowly and slowly- conversations leading to stories of past dates and long-forgotten jokes- meetings with other friends who shared the same fond memories as they did, brightening up their monotonous routine.

Somehow what started as brief chats near the coffee table, led to longer ones on the office roof, then to office lunches and restaurant lunches, to take-out and movies to dinners and long walks, to becoming friends, secret-bearers and finally best friends.

The entire office buzzes with rumours of them dating, because they act like a couple. He walks in and she straightens his tie, he brings over a cup of coffee to her cubicle and they spend an hour laughing over nothing, she packs up and walks over to his office, and he gives a giant hug and a grin promising to see her tomorrow.

To them, it's just friendly affection- nothing out of the blue or strange; but to their co-workers, it is a story worth hours and hours of gossip. They range from the funny to the heart-wrenching to the plain vindictive.

They laugh about it until they forget what they're laughing about.

* * *

Months pass by and they get closer and closer until they both stand on a cliff, ready to either take the leap or to walk back and live with the regret of never taking the chance.

It's hard because he's still hurting and she's still indecisive and they're both haunted by ghosts of the past, present and future.

They simply don't know what to do.

What gives them the final _final _push is the companies' Annual Gala.

He doesn't want a date, and she doesn't want to find one, and so they both go together as friends.

It's late in the night, and they've socialised, fake-laughed, made small talk, had formal obligatory dances, he's given a speech, she's stood by him as he talked to multiple people, and finally they get a moment alone and they move out into the balcony adjoining the ballroom.

The sky is clear and inky black, dotted with multiple sparkling stars. They gaze up, and she points out all the constellations she can see, and he searches and searches, but still can't find them. They laugh (they seem to do that a lot in each other's presence), and soon they fall silent- taking in the beauty and the tranquillity of each other's presence.

The strain of familiar song fills the air, and they glance up, gauging the other's reaction. The steady three-four beat and the violin tune plays, urging them to stand up and _dance. _Within seconds, his hand is on her hip, and her on his shoulders and they fall into the familiar waltz they used to practice when they were sixteen. Years of lack of practice shows, as she steps on his feet and he clumsily leads her through the steps.

_One two three, one two three._

At the end of it they're breathless, and she giggles, then he giggles, and suddenly they both start laughing and laughing, until they can laugh no more and they collapse against a wall gasping for air.

His hand reaches for hers, and their fingers weave together. For minutes they just sit like that, reminiscing and occasionally giggling, until there is no sound but the chatter of guests inside. She looks up at the stars.

_It's so simple isn't it? Always has been like this._

And he regards her with his molten gold eyes.

_Why didn't it work for us?_

_I don't know._

They pause and ponder over it because even when they were sixteen they did everything they did now- perhaps with more energy, but _why _did it not work?

The answer hits her when her heart races and thumps and flutters when he looks at her with those beautiful golden eyes. When she was sixteen, she didn't realise how amazing the boy with golden eyes, golden hair, a golden smile and a golden heart was, until now after everything they've gone through.

Silver and gold clash, and for a second time pauses and they are faced with the choices again. It doesn't take a genius to figure which one they went for.

* * *

They spend their time in his house, lazing around, holding hands, kissing or playing casual games of basketball. He helps her shoot, and she teaches him how to cook. He gets flour on his face, and she rubs it off. She falls down while playing and he applies the band-aid with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. They fall asleep in each other's arms- this time not because the movie is boring, but because they are comforted by the steady breathing and heartbeat of the other. He plays the guitar and the love songs he sings her finally have meaning. They spend hours laughing till their stomach hurts, and sing Disney songs (they still _are _kids at heart) out of pitch while dancing together hand-in-hand. They count stars and talk about their dreams, hopes, aspirations and their _futures _like it's finally a tangible thing. He wipes her tears at thoughts of her mother, and she gently eases him to sleep after a hard day's of work. She kisses him softly and sweetly- taking all the time in the world because they _have it. _It's beautiful and perfect and this time they're _happy._

They're twenty six, working and seasoned, and when they kiss it's like they're sixteen again and the world is nothing but speck of nothingness, in what they can accomplish together.

He whispers,

_I love you_

And she whispers,

_I love you too._

Their little bubble of eternity is back.

* * *

**A/N: **Oh god, this took _forever _to write. So long, you can actually distinct changes in my writing style in different places xD

I just realised how long it is *-* I hope you guys got through it xD

I would love to know your thoughts about it, so read and review? :D

~Dragonseatingme


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